Golden Eyes
by Kendris
Summary: Inspired by the Mercedes LackeyLeslie Fish song of the same title


**_Author's Note: A bit of history on this one. I was cleaning out some stuff that the hubby & I had stored at my in-law's...some of it dating back to my college years. I opened one box, & lying there among the old bank statements and loose change was a cassette tape labeled "Horsetamer's Daughter" (does that awaken fond memories in anyone but myself?). _******

**_I pocketed it, threw out everything else in the box, came home, stuck it in the cassette player in my car and discovered to my delight that it was in pristine condition (I'm now bugging my hubby to rig up a link to my comp so I can get all the songs digitized). Been listening to it on the way to and from work for the last 2 weeks, & at some point, the plot bunnies started jumping. This one was the most energetic, so I snared it first. _******

**_The song is written by Mercedes Lackey, with music by Leslie Fish; I've included the lyrics at the end of the story._**

* * *

She came awake with a gasp and sat up, golden eyes wide, breasts heaving and sweat dripping from her in the glutinous predawn humidity. The dream again. The terrified flight through the jungle from a pursuer whom she could not elude, the sheer rock face looming suddenly in her path, blocking her escape as he stepped from the jungle to stand before her, dark and grim, his gun held ready and green eyes burning into hers.

The dream had come to her every night for a week; it had to be a warning, a portent of danger drawing near.

_I should leave,_ she thought, drawing the thin blanket around her as she glanced around the small cave that she had turned into a home of sorts. A copper bucket held clean water that she brought from a nearby stream, and baskets held the bread and fruit that she obtained in the bazaar. The bed she lay upon was made of layers upon layers of palm fronds covered with a blanket, with two other blankets that she folded neatly each morning. A small brazier provided heat on the rare cool night, and allowed her to cook the meat from the animals she killed, when she desired cooked flesh over raw. It was comfortable enough, but she could find another cave easily enough, farther away from the village…she had done it before, after all.

It had been foolish to linger so long here; the villagers had become disquieted by her presence, but eluding their attempts at pursuit and capture had been almost ridiculously easy, and the convenience of being able to obtain fruit and bread from the village bazaar to supplement her hunting had made her delay her departure.

But the food was no more than an excuse, she knew. What the village really provided was companionship, however limited, to offset the loneliness that had been with her since she had been driven from the village of her birth.

It was time that she move on, though; the dream made that clear. There were other villages within a few days' travel. She would make one last visit to the bazaar for supplies and be away from here. But first she would hunt, she decided as her stomach gave a sudden growl. Standing, she stretched her lithe body lazily, then bent to quickly fold her blankets and stack them at the foot of her bed.

Crouching, she paused at the small entrance to the cave, all senses alert to danger. Sensing none, she moved swiftly through the bushes that concealed the opening in the stone and stood, enjoying the feeling of the morning air on her bare skin. The wind brought with it the scent of prey…a buck and doe…and her pulse quickened in anticipation of the hunt. The transformation began as she stepped forward, almost without thought, and was completed by the time she reached the trees. Light from the rising sun filtered through the canopy of leaves to fall briefly upon golden, slitted eyes and a tawny, black-spotted coat before she vanished into the shadows in pursuit of her prey.

OOO

"This is no ordinary leopard, my lord!"

The hunter paused in his preparations to glance up at the village headman, a hint of amusement in his eyes, and the old man found it hard to pull his own eyes away from their gaze. The hunter's eyes were unusual, even for a white man; as green as the finest emeralds, they had burned with a hypnotic intensity as he had queried the headman about the predator that the village wanted exterminated, and as he had heard the description of the uncanny beast, the look in them had shifted to a yearning hunger that the headman understood not at all.

"Of that I am certain," the hunter agreed, his lips curling into an enigmatic smile as he stood. He was almost half a head taller than any man of the village, with dark hair and rugged good looks that had many of the women of the village – married and unmarried alike – staring after him appreciatively and most of the men glowering at him resentfully, though he had shown no inclination of accepting the attentions that had been directed toward him thus far.

Perhaps it was just as well that he insisted upon hunting the beast alone; any men from the village who assisted him might be tempted to arrange an "accident". Still, the headman felt it his duty to make certain that the hunter had been duly warned of the danger.

"She eludes the best of our hunters like a ghost! Our traps are found sprung and empty, and poisoned meat is dragged back into the village square, where our own dogs eat it and die! To seek her alone is folly! At best, you will fail; at worst…"

"At worst, I will never be seen again," the hunter finished for him, seeming untroubled by the prospect as he swung his pack onto his shoulders and picked up his rifle. "I thank you for your warning, but I have been hunting this leopardess for many years," he stared past the clay huts of the village and the bright fabric of the bazaar booths to the verdant jungle that had surrounded the tiny settlement for centuries, his remarkable eyes distant and unreadable, "and it is a hunt that I will finish alone."

And he was gone without another word, striding purposefully toward the bazaar, leaving the headman to puzzle over his final remark.

OOO

She moved through the bazaar, wandering from booth to booth, trading palm nuts that she had gathered in the jungle for flat loaves of stone baked bread, plantains, mangoes and other fruits, murmuring greetings and exchanging pleasantries with the villagers as she went. Though she did not live within the village, and had, in fact, first visited the bazaar only some eight months earlier, everyone she encountered treated her as though they knew her well, although after she departed, not one of them would remember that she had even been there. It was thus wherever she went, and although she understood this magic no better than she did the magic that allowed her to change her form, she accepted it unquestioningly, grateful for the respite that it permitted from her otherwise solitary existence.

The change had first come over her shortly after her moon cycles had begun; initially, it had been involuntary, triggered by excitement or fear, and had resulted in her being condemned as a devil. The village priest had been ready to burn her, but her mother had slipped her out of their hut under cover of darkness, leading her deep into the jungle and bidding her to run as she handed her a sack of food and a small pouch of coppers.

She had not seen her family since that day, six years ago. For the first year, she had lived almost entirely as the great cat, burying her pain beneath the siren song of animal instinct, content to worry herself with nothing more than the day's hunt, the night's sleep. But try as she might, she could not completely abandon her humanity; her mind remained aware of what she was, what she had been, what she had lost. Loneliness gnawed at her, driving her to the jungle's edge to gaze longingly into the villages that she passed by.

Slowly, painfully, she learned to control the change of form, learned also of the mysterious magic that rendered her at once familiar and forgettable to any that she met. She began to visit the villages, cautiously at first, then more boldly as she found herself able to move about freely in her human form. As a leopard, she caused a great deal more consternation, but as she could spend no more than half of any day as a human, her other form was inevitably noticed by the inhabitants of any village that she lingered near. Sooner or later, the hunters would be on her trail; eluding them was generally a simple matter, but she feared being cornered one day and forced to fight. She had never killed a human, and was determined never to do so. When the hunters gathered, she moved on.

She should have left this village before now. Twice, groups of hunters had taken to the jungle to track her, setting traps and laying out poisoned meat. She should have gone the first time she had caught their scent, pungent with sweat and tobacco, but the loneliness was becoming harder and harder to bear. She was a woman grown now, and the reflection that gazed back at her from the still surface of deep jungle pools was a beautiful one, with full lips and thick lashes surrounding golden eyes that contrasted sharply with her dusky skin, and yet, although the men of the village gazed at her appreciatively, none of them had given any indication of being willing to do more than look. Another aspect of her magic, she supposed, and one that undoubtedly protected her. Bad as it was to be hunted as an animal, it would be much worse to be hunted as a devil, which was what would certainly happen should any of the villagers discover her secret.

Movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention; she turned her head and froze, her hand still upon the mango that she had been examining for ripeness. It was _him_.

He looked exactly as he had in the dream, tall and strong, striding easily through the marketplace, his intense green eyes seeming to see everything, broad shoulders unbowed by the weight of the pack that he carried and a rifle – not the rusty flintlocks carried by the village hunters, but a bolt action, oiled black steel and polished wood gleaming in the sun – held easily in his right hand.

She backed away, heart pounding, the mango dropping forgotten from her hand and the vendor's puzzled query unheard. She knew that she should slip away as furtively as possible, blending into the crowd, drawing no attention to herself, but fear had her firmly within her grip. _Run or die._

Turning, she fled, heedless of the startled cries that followed her as she pushed her way through the crowded bazaar, fighting to hold her form until she reached the jungle's sheltering trees. Reaching the treeline, she chanced a glance over her shoulder. He was coming, his easy stride turned into a run, villagers scurrying out of his way with shouts of confusion and alarm. His green eyes found hers and held them, piercing it seemed to her deepest soul, and she felt cold terror clutch at her heart. He _knew._

Turning, she plunged into the jungle, releasing her rigid control and feeling her form shift smoothly between one stride and the next, her sarong sliding from her to lay forgotten on the ground. From two legs to four, her stride lengthened, covering the earth in great bounds, muscle and tendon working in desperate unison as she fled blindly.

How long she ran, she could not tell, but when she paused for breath, she could taste his scent upon the breeze, and she knew that he held steady on her track, though he moved as silently as any jungle creature. If she continued her mindless flight, he would track her down when she finally collapsed from exhaustion.

Forcing herself to think, she moved on at a slightly slower pace, and when she came to a stream, she leaped unhesitatingly into the water, swimming upstream for a distance until it grew shallow, climbing out on the other side, then taking to the trees for a distance, scaling a massive trunk and leaping from one low branch to another.

She leaped to the ground at last and, in a final attempt to confuse the trail, shifted back to human form as she doubled back, running fleetly along centuries-old game trails, making for her lair. She could hide there until he had given up and returned to the village, then slip away, deep into the jungle, where he would have no hope of tracking her.

A brief gleam of sun on metal was her only warning, and she staggered to a stop, staring in disbelief at the shifting undergrowth that gave away the hunter's passage. He had ignored her deceptions, following her as surely as if they were tied together by an invisible cord. _How?_ Unreasoning fear seized her again; shifting back into leopard form, she reverted once more to blind flight.

She had not gone far, however, before she found her pathway blocked by a sheer stone face, part of the same massive rock formation that held her lair. She wheeled about, only to discover that she had run blindly into a narrow gorge, trapping her on three sides. The only way out was the way she had come, and as she watched, the hunter stepped from the trees, blocking her escape.

She shrank back, flanks heaving with exhaustion as he approached, the gun held ready, but not pointed at her yet. His eyes, emerald green, burned into hers, searching, evaluating.

"It's you," he said softly, stepping forward.

She shrank back further with a snarl, knowing that the choice she had feared was upon her. _Fight…or die._

But what was he doing? She stared in amazement as he set his gun aside, let his pack slide from his shoulders to the ground. "I'm not going to hurt you, my beautiful one," he breathed, a gentle smile on his face. "I have been looking for you all my life."

Now was the time to run…now, before he could get to the gun again, but before she could make the choice, he stepped closer, his body blurring, his form shifting like softened clay under an unseen sculptor's hand.

The male leopard, coat gleaming in the sunlight, padded forward to greet the astonished female with a throaty purr.

OOO

The headman heard the commotion that meant that the search party had returned, and when he stepped from the hut, he was greeted by the sight of the village's chief hunter waving the missing man's rifle in the air. The headman sighed; the rifle had been the only reason that any of the men of the village had been interested in the search. That the white hunter was dead was virtually certain, and only the possibility of salvaging such a magnificent weapon had emboldened the men to venture into the jungle where such a canny predator lurked.

As the group reached his hut, the headman saw that another of the men carried the pack, staggering beneath the weight but stubbornly refusing assistance.

"Did you find him?" the headman asked, knowing the answer before it was given. Men who had seen the kill of a maneater would not be so jaunty.

The chief hunter shook his head. "Just the gun and his pack in the ravine." He spat in disgust. "The fool had not even loaded his weapon when they took him. They left not even a drop of blood behind."

"They?" the headman echoed in surprise, and the hunter nodded with a gleam in his eye.

"There are two now, and from the tracks, her mate is twice her size!" He brandished the rifle confidently. "With this weapon, though, I shall have their hides before the rains fall!"

_That I strongly doubt,_ the headman thought, but because he was wise, he kept his thoughts to himself as the hunter turned to display his trophy to the rest of the village.

OOO

She woke in the darkness of the cave and lay still, savoring the unfamiliar and glorious sensation of his lean, muscled body pressed against hers, his arm curled protectively around her waist, and the soft, steady rhythm of his breath against her neck. Tomorrow, they would leave this place together and go deep into the jungle, far from any human habitation, but for now, she was content to snuggle back against her mate, feeling his arm tighten possessively, drawing her even more closely to him, even in sleep.

* * *

**_And the song that inspired the story…. _**

GOLDEN EYES  
Lyrics by Mercedes Lackey  
Music by Leslie Fish

A shadow in the bright bazaar; a glimpse of eyes where none should shine,  
A glimpse of eyes translucent gold, and slitted against the sun.  
This the clue and this the sign that sets him on his quarry's line,  
But she has seen him in a dream, and now she's on the run.

Faster than a thought she flees, and seeks the jungle's sheltering trees,  
But he is steady on the track, and half a breath behind.  
She tastes his scent upon the breeze, and, looking past her shoulder, sees  
He treads upon her shadow. She fears the hunter's mind.

So now she summons all her wit, and every trick she knows to hide,  
To make him lose the twisting track, to throw him off her traiil  
In woman form, in leopard hide, fording, leaping side to side,  
She doubles back along her track - and sees her efforts fail.

He stands before her, dark and grim. Her terror now she can't suppress.  
He blocks the only pathway out, and will not let her by.  
Her gold flanks heaving in distress, half woman and half leopardess -  
To either side, nowhere to hide; it's time to fight or die.

But what is this? To her amaze, the man has thrown his gun away,  
And quietly, he draws near her now, a smile upon his face.  
Before she thinks to run or stay, his body blurs like softened clay...  
Before her eyes, to her surprise - a leopard in his place.

The hunter they have sought in vain, and now the talk of the bazaar  
Is of the canny leopard pair, a sight none will forget  
Who once has seen them near or far, in sunlight or where shadows are,  
As side by side they hunt and hide. No one has caught them yet/


End file.
